Blood Spills, Earth Shatters

[marimbamonk 1501]

Blood Spills, Earth Shatters

 

"Gruol... Id dunnub hab to be diz wai. Da Azog's hab suckumb to da Dark Szpiruts. Lat duznub hab to."

 

"Me weyl fyte by mai Azog bruddahs. Till me flat... Me weyl fyte for dem."

 

Brunhyldir shook his head. "Zhad... A wayste, uf da bluud uf Krug," the High Shaman said, sheathing his sword. "Shakull him, Rekzam." 

Gruol, scarred and beaten by the orcs of Kog, barely managed to stand as he was escorted to the prison tree. Brunhyldir shoved him inside one of the cells hanging there, closing it and locking it tight. "We weyl kom back foah lat when owah szpirut ritchuual beginz." 

The High Shaman grunted, stepping off with Reksam as they made their way back to the heart of the Goi.

 

- Several hours later... -

 

As day shifted to night, a brisk wind began to pick up. An... Unnatural wind; a wind forced without the hand of the guiding spirits.

Brunhyldir narrowed his eyes, immediately feeling a disturbance. He ran out of his blarg, knowing the one source where this wind might be taking effect.

And before him, there it was. Gruol's cell (with the beaten orc still inside) was swinging back and forth -- and eventually, right before the Shaman's eyes, the cell fell from the tree to the ground, crashing and breaking. 

 

 

Brunhyldir laughed. "Mi nub gruk wud odd mojo lat gut, bud id nub --"

 

As the High Shaman said this, a piercing cry erupted from the soulstone pillar. "AZAAAAWG! Agha, for AZOG!"

Brunhyldir's face flushed. He turned about, seeing his worst fear before his eyes.

A dozen of the corrupt orcs began to descend from the pillar, their eyes determined, their blades drawn.

Ignoring the fallen prisoner, Brunhyldir pommeled over to the Azogs, listening as their Wargoth spoke. 

"URUKZ! Which azh uf lat tewk owah bruddah?!" 

As Brunhyldir stepped forward, he locked eyes with the dark force behind the fall of this once-great clan... Zogrocka.

Snarling, the High Shaman spoke. "It wuz me." 

 

And with a single gesture, the Azogs pounced on the High Shaman. Although his bones were old; he held out for some time, managing to even knock out the Wargoth with a spear of elemental ice. Yet, as he fell beneath their tidal force, as did Reksam, Thurak, and Narena -- all captives of the Azog's dark reign.

 

~

 

The Azogs and their prisoners made their way to the Rex's palace. The High Shaman, Reksam, and Thurak were all unconscious, too beaten and bruised from the fight to put up any resistance.

 

 

"Wayt! Wud... Wud am lats doin'? Wud am lats doin'?!" A familiar voice rang out as it approached the palace.

Bog -- an old orc, a very old, experienced orc. He approached the Azogs, taking note of Brunhyldir, one of his old orcish friends. He started shaking the High Shaman, saying, "Zhomo? Ken lat heah me?"

One of the Azogs pushed him away, and just as a rebuttal, the corrupt orc turned around and broke Brunhyldir's nose, knocking him flat to the ground. Brunhyldir was half-conscious, half-dead at this point; and Zogrocka began the sacrificial rituals.

 

"Reksam. Bring da Wahgoth uf da Kogs tu me!" An Azog uruk pushed the seemingly knocked-out Reksam towards the Dark Shaman; yet, as he did, Reksam shook into life, grabbing his captor in a head lock. 

Reksam, the sudden hero of the situation, shouted at Zogrocka as he held the head of the Azog within his arms. "Azogs! Lat wan' to fyte wid da szpiruts?!"

Zogrocka spit, shaking his head. Yet, as he did so, the earth began to shake. The Dark Shaman said, "Yub... We do."

 

And in one flurry of a moment, an Azog sluttered behind Reksam, stabbing him in the back of the head -- and another Azog, annoyed by the shaking of the earth, brought a dagger to Brunhyldir's throat, killing him.

 

The earth groaned as the blood of the two orcs spilled to the ground. It crackled beneath the feet of the Azogs, rumbling to form a dark, guttural voice. "NUGAKMOG! (TORMENT!)" Rumbles beneath the earth amplified the voice, shattering the ground. 

Zogrocka had heard that voice before... Gul'Thak.

Ah, but from there, things only got worse for the Azogs. As the earth continued to crumble beneath their feet, an armada force suddenly appeared in the distance. A soft voice said, "Are these them? The 'Azogs', right?" 

Another, "They just look like regular, ugly orcs!"

And it was so -- a party of orcs that had seen the commotion with the Azogs earlier had gone to the human forces for help.

 

It was there, among the breaking back of the mountain, that the two forces collided. With the blood of the two honorable orcs seeping into the ground, Gul'Thak summoned a tempest of sandstorm right in the battlefield, pillars of tornado-sand spinning around the humans and the orcs.

 

 

Yet, the power of the Dark Shaman and the strength of the Azogs was too powerful. One after another, the humans (and the orcs that brought them) fell. 

 

An uproar of victory erupted from the Azogs! But the battle wasn't over yet.

As his brothers looted the bodies and found themselves idle, Zogrocka made his way to the center of the sandstorm. "Gul'Thak! Klomp wid me!"

The earth buckled and cracked, almost like an ancient, wise chuckle. Instantly, a spiraling tornado of sand rose out of the ground, grabbing Zogrocka and suspending him in the air. As it span, it circulated smaller and smaller, getting closer and closer to the body of the Dark Shaman.

Zogrocka chanted, starting to speak to his spirit, yet from the sand erupted a tendril that slithered into his mouth and prevented him from speaking. The earth almost seemed crazed... Hungry.

"Mundus... Mundus..." it repeated, over and over. "Strangle... Strangle..."

 

 

Finally, as the flesh of the Dark Shaman began to peel from his bones, two Azogs charged into the storm, flying upwards and knocking Zogrocka (and themselves) out of Gul'Thaks wrath. With it, an Earth totem happened to fly as well, landing far off on the other side of the mountain.

 

And just when they thought it was over... Gul'Thak struck again. An earthen prison of rock began to rise from the ground, closing up around the Dark Shaman. The Azogs pounded and picked at it, yet it simply reformed with every blow they dealt. It wasn't until one of the Azogs noticed the earth totem, literally drop-kicking it, that the prison ceased to form.

In fact, as the totem flew in the air, landing with a sad little, "thump" in the distance, the tempest of sand around them suddenly flew back to the ground. Tornados simply wimpered out into tiny piles of sand, and the prison surrounding Zogrocka was easily pissed away by his brothers.

 

And thus, was the first strike of the Azogs...

 

 

~ 

 

Krug watches from the spirit realm, his eyes mad with flaming fire. He tilts his head at Zogrocka, clenching his fist in a dark hope that it would somehow crush his skull.

Krug shook his head, closing his eyes. His Children would not be defeated so... Their true deaths were meant for a more honorable time... A time when their blood could spill and grow a foundation for generations to come.

As Krug thought this, he looked down on the Immortal Plane, peering at the many warring spirits. One caught his eye, and to it, he whispered something. "Lat -- Gagna me hai. Staun dem sha'ya hajmali... Maybe den da Gajarpan weyl bartas." 

[mylimo7 409]

Good read, makes me want to make an orc character.

[Raptorious 1899]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.